Perfect
by hpforever01
Summary: Rose Weasley is perfect. Everybody in the Wizarding World knows that. Or at least they think they do. But when she releases an autobiography about her time at Hogwarts, the world is in for a shock. Is there more to the perfect Rose Weasley than meets the eye? What dark secrets could she possibly be hiding?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It's a warm day in July. Sunlight glints off the shop windows in Diagon Alley, lighting up the items displayed inside. People wander up and down the street, gazing with interest into different shops and commenting on the things inside. Nobody hurries or moves too quickly; there is none of the bustle the street often enjoys. It is one of those days, when nobody is capable of getting stressed or worrying too much. A lazy day, the kind where strolling is by far preferable to hurrying and all anyone wants to do is relax and bask in the sunshine.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, which hasn't been run by anyone with the name Florean Fortescue in a very long time but nonetheless retains its original name, is one of the busiest shops on the street. Children drag their parents over, begging for ice cream, and couples sit at the tables outside, giggling and making eyes over their ice creams. There is hardly a single person on the street who hasn't had an ice cream yet today, and the owner is very pleased indeed with the day's profit so far.

The only shop which can claim to rival the ice cream parlour is Flourish and Blotts. Although there is still a while to go before Hogwarts students will be needing to buy their school books (a time which is normally the busiest in the year for the shop), the shop is more crowded than it has been in rather a while. The queue at the till reaches halfway round the shop, and there is barely room to move inside. Still more people stand outside the window, peering in to see what all the fuss is about.

The object of all the attention is a thick, rather ordinary-looking book. Ordinary-looking in that it doesn't emit sparks, vanish every so often or attempt to bite the fingers of those who touch it, as some books sold at Flourish and Blotts have been known to do in the past.

The book has just been released today, and is an autobiography, written by the incredibly well-known Rose Weasley. Rose Weasley has done little in her own right, but is nonetheless quite frequently the object of media attention, due mainly to being pretty, intelligent and the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley. The reason her book has attracted so much publicity is that it is the first of its kind in a very long while. Many biographies have been written about various members of the Potter and Weasley families (as well as about Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood and anyone else believed to be of any interest to the Wizarding community) but they have all been written by reporters – people like Rita Skeeter and her colleagues. As the celebrities themselves prefer to remain out of the limelight, none of them have ever written about themselves.

Until now.

Rose Weasley is currently one of the Wizarding World's favourite celebrities. Having left Hogwarts with Os in all her NEWTs, started dating Scorpius Malfoy, and proceeded to move between various different careers and occupations, she has provided the reporters with a great deal of material to work with. Her adoring fans could probably list her favourite colour, the list of subjects she's taken throughout school, everybody she's been friends with and what brand of robes she favours.

And so it is with curiosity that people flock to the bookshop, wondering what more Rose Weasley could possibly have to tell the world that they don't already know. Will this book reveal some fascinating new information about her, or will it simply tell everyone the same things they've heard before, but this time from her perspective?

The title of the book is a single word: Perfect. A fitting title for the autobiography of someone like Rose Weasley. Someone so close to being perfect that many believe she truly is. And yet she does not seem like the sort to brag, so perhaps the title holds a deeper meaning than that. Perhaps.

It is this question, and many more, that people hope to answer as they bring their brand new books home with them that evening to read in bed, or on the sofa, or perhaps on the way to work the next morning. And it is this question that will be answered, but not one of the book's avid readers could predict the astounding things they are about to discover.


	2. Introduction

**Introduction**

_Hi, I'm Rose Weasley. You've probably heard of me. If you haven't, you've probably been living under a rock – or perhaps in the middle of a forest in Albania – for the last couple of decades. Either that or you're a muggle, I suppose. Not that there's anything particularly special that I've done that means people should know me. In fact, I'd be thrilled if I met somebody who'd never heard of me. It's just that … well, if you've got parents like mine then people know you. It's something I've struggled with for a while, but I think I'm beginning to come to terms with it. Maybe. _

_Writing this isn't exactly going to help with the whole fame thing. I know that. I've known it for a while, and that's why I was very reluctant to do it at all. In fact, it took me a very long time to decide that I would. I'm still not sure whether I'm going to be brave enough to go through with it. So much for Gryffindor courage, eh. _

_I haven't exactly explained what it is that I'm so scared of doing, have I? I guess that would be a good place to start, otherwise you're going to start to think that I'm just rambling with no purpose. _

_If you're reading this then I assume that you walked into Flourish and Blotts, saw this lovely, glossy book on one of the shelves proclaiming that it would give an insight into the life of the famous Rose Weasley and decided you would buy it. Perhaps you were curious, or perhaps wanted to know what the perfect, clever Rose Weasley could have to tell the world that it didn't already know, or perhaps you were simply bored. Whatever the reason, you're reading it now, and I sincerely hope I don't disappoint your expectations. _

_A little while ago, I came across an old diary of mine. It was a diary my mum (the very well-known Hermione Granger) gave me the day before I left for my first year at Hogwarts. I wrote in it for the very first time that night, and continued to use it for the next seven years, only laying it aside for the very last time the day I left Hogwarts for good. Three years later, I came across it again, tucked away in my old school trunk in the corner of my parents' attic. I'd forgotten its existence entirely, and rereading it was fascinating, if a little painful at times._

_I'm not sure what made me decide to rewrite it. It was just something I felt like I had to do. I went through, changing it from the diary form into something smoother and more logical: more like an actual story. My diary entries were sporadic and often illogical, and would have made little sense to anyone but me. I filled in the blanks and explained the things that otherwise didn't make sense. My diary no longer looks like a diary, and that's because it isn't. It's a story. A story of my life._

_I can't guarantee that everything I've written is completely true. Or at least not true in the most literal sense of the word. At times I was unable to remember the precise details of events and was forced to embellish parts of it. At other times I didn't like the way it had actually happened and decided to change it slightly. Real life can be inconvenient, you see. It doesn't run smoothly in the style of a story, but spirals around confusingly and refuses to make sense. Besides, it was easier when I fictionalised it to some extent. Less painful. I could distance myself from the emotions, pretend that these were things that had happened to some imaginary character, and not to me. Some things were just too difficult to include at all. What I left out says as much as those things I included, but some of it no one but me will ever know. Some of it can never be shared._

_While tiny portions of this story may not be literally true, however, in essence it is the complete and absolute truth. Details and precise conversations change, but the truth does not, and the truth is in this book. There have been many accounts written about the famous Rose Weasley, but I can assure you that this is the only one that tells the absolute truth. Ignore the rubbish they print about me in the Daily Prophet. Ignore the people who tell you that I'm as perfect and clever as my mum, as brave and funny as my dad, and some sort of incredible, superhuman combination of them both. I'm a human being, and I'm my own person. I'm not perfect. Far from it, as you're about to find out. _

_It was a very good friend of mine who suggested that I actually publish this book. He knew I was writing it – he was the only person I told – and one day he said that perhaps I ought to share it with others. I wasn't sure why. I'm still not. If there's one thing I've learned about this particular friend, however, it's that his suggestions are almost always very good ones. I was incredibly uncertain about it at first. I still am. I've decided to go ahead with it, however. It'll be liberating, in a way, to dispel the ridiculous ideas a lot of people have about me. Nevertheless, revealing my deepest secrets to the entire Wizarding World is a pretty terrifying thing to do. I hope you'll remember that as you read, and try to refrain from judging too quickly or condemning me too easily. I apologise in advance for shattering the perfect image everyone has of me, and hope you can forgive me, bearing in mind that the truth is more powerful than any mask – no matter how perfect and well-preserved – can ever be._

_So that's me done with my little introduction. Feel free to forget that this is a story about a real person: the real Rose Weasley. Pretend that you're just reading a fictional story about a fictional character, because that's what I pretended as I wrote it. I hope you find it interesting and informative, and most of all I hope you enjoy reading it. Books are meant to be enjoyed, regardless of whether their subject is real or fictional. Otherwise, what would be the point?_


	3. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

I'm incredibly excited the night before I go to Hogwarts for the first time. What child isn't? I've gone to a muggle primary school for the last six years, and although it's nice and I've made some good friends there, I know Hogwarts will be a million times better. Just being able to have a little more independence will be wonderful. Walking to different classes with my friends, rather than being shepherded everywhere by an overprotective primary school teacher. Being able to go to sleep at whatever time I like every night, and not having my parents around to tell me what to eat and what to wear and when to do my homework.

Not that I won't miss my parents, because I will. I love them both to bits, but they drive me mad sometimes. Mum nags too much, and Dad has got to be one of the most embarrassing parents in the history of the world. Plus whenever we go out as a family people keep staring at them because they're the famous Ron and Hermione Weasley. It gets pretty annoying sometimes.

I will miss my brother, though. Not that I'd ever tell him, but he means the world to me. Of course we wind each other up most of the time, but that doesn't mean we don't love each other. I mean, brothers and sisters are _supposed _to argue, aren't they? I'll miss not having him around all the time, but it's only for two years, then he'll be coming to Hogwarts too.

So the excitement definitely outweighs any nerves I might be feeling about leaving my family behind. After all, half my family are at Hogwarts already. I think I must have at least one cousin in every year at Hogwarts. And of course Albus will be starting at the same time as me, and he's the cousin I'm closest to. So there's no way I'll get homesick or anything like that. At least I hope not.

It takes me a while to get to sleep. I find myself speculating about what house I'll be in. I know that Albus is worried about it, but I'm not. I'm aware that there's still a bit of prejudice about the issue among some people, but that's just stupid. The war was nineteen years ago, for heaven's sake. Everybody knows that Slytherin isn't just made up of future death eaters nowadays. Slytherins are just perfectly ordinary people, though there's still a bit of rivalry between them and Gryffindor. But the Sorting is just an interesting way of determining a little bit about somebody's personality and allowing them to spend their time at school with people who are similar to them.

I guess Dad might be a little bit disappointed if I'm not in Gryffindor, but he'll get over it. It's no longer automatic that all Weasleys go into Gryffindor. James did (though he's actually a Potter, not a Weasley) and so did Fred and Roxanne. But Molly (who's two years older than me) went into Ravenclaw. Victoire (who's going into seventh year this year) is in Ravenclaw too, but Dominique is in Slytherin and Louis is only starting this year so we don't know where he'll be. There's quite a lot of rivalry within the family now, but it's all pretty friendly. The adults try not to pick sides, but it's hard for them because they were all in Gryffindor. Well, except Auntie Fleur and Auntie Audrey because neither of them went to Hogwarts, so they don't really understand it all.

Anyway, the only reason Al is worried is because James keeps telling him he'll be in Slytherin. Which is stupid, because it's obvious that he won't be. Not that there's anything wrong with Slytherins (me and Dominique get on really well) but it's fairly clear that Al isn't one. I don't think he's a Gryffindor either, though. Personally I think he'll probably be in Ravenclaw, and I'm almost always right about this. Since I was six or seven I've been guessing which house each of my cousins will go into, and I've been right every time. Not that I've told anyone, because they like to think that it's this big surprise, but I just have a bit of an instinct for it.

If I'm right then Al will go into Ravenclaw, and Lily and Hugo will both go into Hufflepuff when they start in two years. Louis will probably be in Ravenclaw, but he might be in Slytherin. I'm not completely sure. He's got elements of both houses. And Lucy will be in Gryffindor. There's absolutely no doubt about that.

The only person whose house I really don't have a clue about is mine. Apparently my instinct doesn't work when it comes to figuring out myself. I guess I'd quite like to stay with Al, but at the same time I'm not sure if I'm a Ravenclaw. I certainly read a lot. And I always get pretty high marks at school. But so did Mum, and she was a Gryffindor.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see. No matter what house I'm in, I'm just happy to be going to Hogwarts at last.

Eventually I manage to drift off to sleep, knowing I have a long and tiring, if very exciting, day ahead of me. The next time I fall asleep it'll be in a bed at Hogwarts, though in what dorm I really have no idea.


	4. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

I'm woken early the next morning by Mum gently shaking me.

"Wake up, Rosie," she says softly. I open my eyes sleepily, looking up at her. It strikes me that this will be the last time in rather a long while that I'm woken by my Mum. The thought is an oddly sad one and I have to hold back the tears that threaten to spring to my eyes.

"We're leaving in an hour, Rosie," Mum says now that she has ascertained I'm definitely awake, "Make sure you don't forget to have breakfast."

She hurries out of the room again, calling for Dad and demanding to know what he's done with her laptop. I roll my eyes. A couple of months ago Dad didn't even know what a laptop _was_. He still looks at it as though he's worried it's going to explode sometimes. There's no way it was him who moved it. If anyone it was probably Hugo, borrowing it to play computer games again.

Sure enough, moments later I hear her berating Hugo for taking her laptop without asking first. Chuckling to myself, I roll out of bed. Rather than putting on casual clothes and changing into my robes later, I've decided just to put them on now. I know it might attract some odd looks at Kings Cross, but I just can't resist. They look so smart and grown-up. I still can't believe that I'm actually _going _to Hogwarts!

The next hour is a pretty frantic rush as we dash around, trying to get everything sorted. Mum and I packed my trunk the night before, but she suddenly realises that we forgot to put a couple of my books in, and we have to repack it completely to get everything to fit. Eventually, however, we manage to get everything in the car, and we're ready to go.

Dad is driving us to the station, which is always a little scary. He only passed his driving test a few months ago, and we're still not sure how he managed it. He's not exactly the most careful of drivers. Nevertheless, we reach the station unscathed, and we're soon standing on platform nine and three-quarters. I've been before, of course, to see Teddy off to Hogwarts, and James last year when he started, but this is the first time it's actually been _me _getting on that train. The atmosphere seems different, somehow. Or perhaps it's just that I'm a part of it now, rather than simply looking on and waiting for my turn.

We quickly find Albus and his parents. He looks nervous and seems very relieved to see me. I grin at him, trying to calm his nerves a little. Al gets very nervous about things, and I know that James has probably been winding him up and telling him all sorts of awful stories all morning. Poor Al. I don't know what he ever did to deserve an idiot like James for a brother.

Hugo's face lights up when he sees Lily, and they are quickly engrossed in a conversation about houses. Dad and Uncle Harry load our trunks onto the train, then return to where we are standing.

"If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," Dad says, interrupting Lily and Hugo's conversation, "but no pressure."

_"Ron!"_

Lily and Hugo laugh, but Albus just looks even more nervous. Mum and Auntie Ginny assure us that he doesn't mean it, but I can't help wondering. Dad always takes it harder than everyone else when one of our cousins goes into a house other than Gryffindor. When he heard that Dominique had gone into Slytherin he practically had a heart attack. It was several weeks before he could hear her name without scowling, and another two years before he was capable of having a civil conversation with her and not bring up her house at any point. I guess I just have to hope that if I'm not in Gryffindor he'll forgive me eventually.

Dad has lost interest in the conversation (I swear he has the concentration span of a five-year-old!) and is watching a family standing around fifty yards away.

"Look who it is," he says. We all glance over. I recognise the man as Draco Malfoy, someone Dad really doesn't like very much. He's standing with his wife and son, who appears to also be going into first year. I knew Draco Malfoy had a son, but I hadn't realised he was my age. That could be interesting.

"So that's little Scorpius," Dad says, "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

Mum scolds Dad for trying to create enmity between us before we've even started school, but I'm not really listening. I'm watching Scorpius, intrigued. Of course you can't tell much about somebody simply by looking at them, but I don't think he's much like Mum and Dad say Draco Malfoy was when he was at school. He doesn't _look_ arrogant or full of himself. He just looks kinda nervous, a lot like Al and I really. I feel a surge of sympathy for him. Al and I are both going to Hogwarts with a lot of expectations hanging over us. Everybody knows who our parents are, and that's going to affect the way they treat us. But at least people _like _our parents. Poor Scorpius is going to a school where everybody thinks of him as the son of the man who was once a Death Eater.

I'm distracted from Scorpius Malfoy by the arrival of James, who announces dramatically that he's just seen Teddy snogging Victoire. He seems rather disappointed when nobody is surprised, but honestly, what does he expect? Anyone with half a brain knew Teddy and Victoire would end up together. I've been able to see it coming for years.

Uncle Harry checks his watch and advises us all to get on the train. I get a hug and a kiss from both my parents, then Dad helps me onto the train. I notice that Al is no longer with me, but realise that he's deliberately hung back to talk to his dad. I figure he probably needs to talk about something in particular, so I sit down and wave at the adults on the platform. The window is open and Dad stands by it, saying a last goodbye.

"Enjoy yourself, Rosie," he says, "You're gonna love Hogwarts. And don't worry about what I said earlier. No matter what house you're in, and who you make friends with, Mum and I will always be proud of you. Even if …" he pauses, gulps, then forces the words out, "Even if you're in … _Slytherin_." I grin. He must have noticed my worried expression earlier. Perhaps he's more perceptive than I give him credit for.

"Thanks, Dad," I say. Al has finished talking to his dad now. He joins me on the train and Auntie Ginny closes the door. We lean out of the open window and I suddenly realise that a great deal of people are gawking in our direction.

"Why are they all _staring_?" Albus asks, though it's pretty obvious.

"Don't let it worry you," Dad says, "It's me. I'm extremely famous."

We all laugh. The train begins to move and we all hang out of the windows, waving excitedly. As soon as the platform is out of sight I lean back in my seat, grinning at Albus.

"You excited?" I ask, though the answer is obvious in his face.

"Absolutely."


	5. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Louis soon joins us in our compartment, along with Dominique, who stops briefly to gossip about the fact that her sister and Teddy have finally announced their relationship to everyone (not that they had much choice after James caught them snogging) before hurrying off to find her friends. Louis stays with us. The boys soon become involved in a deep discussion about Quidditch, and I get out a book. It's a fictional book, not a school textbook. I know that Mum had read all her school textbooks several times over by the time she started school, but it was different for her. To her, reading a book about this magical world she'd only just discovered _was _like reading for fiction. For me it's just finding out lots of stuff that I've already heard about from my parents, aunts and uncles and older cousins.

The book is Eragon: a muggle storybook. Mum always encourages us to read muggle books as much as wizarding ones, saying that it's important to know about both cultures. Parts of the story are a little ridiculous. The way dragons are described, for one thing. One of my uncles works with dragons, and I know for a fact that they're _nothing _like this. It's still a good story, though.

A couple of hours into the journey I leave the boys chatting to go to the bathroom. On my way out, not looking where I'm going, I walk straight into somebody, who stumbles backwards. It's Scorpius Malfoy.

"Sorry," he mumbles, looking at me nervously. I smile reassuringly at him.

"Nah, it was my fault," I say, "I wasn't paying attention. I'm Rose Weasley, by the way."

"Yeah, I know," he says, "I'm Scorpius Malfoy." I grin.

"I know that, too," I say, "I guess introductions are a bit pointless when you have parents like ours, aren't they?" He looks nervous again, as though I'm suddenly going to turn against him for being a Malfoy. I sigh.

"Why don't you come and join me and my cousins in our compartment?" I ask, "I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

He looks as though he can't believe he's actually hearing me right, but nods eagerly. I wonder whether he's been wandering up and down the corridor all this time. It seems ridiculous that people could hold onto a prejudice for so long, and refuse to let him sit with them because of something his father did years ago, but I guess it's possible.

When we arrive back at the compartment, Al and Louis are _still_ talking about Quidditch. I have no idea how they can do that. It's not like I've got anything against Quidditch. In fact I'm a massive fan of the sport (what Weasley isn't) but I could never talk about it for three hours straight.

The two boys glance up when we come in and briefly greet Scorpius, but other than that don't react to our new companion. I'm glad that they haven't listened to what Dad said about not befriending the son of Draco Malfoy. Not that Louis would, but sometimes Al takes the words of our parents a little too seriously.

I'm unsure how to start a conversation with Scorpius. It's been a while since I've had to make a brand new friend, and for several minutes we sit in a rather awkward silence, listening to Albus and Louis argue passionately about the Chudley Cannons' new keeper. Then Scorpius notices the book I've left lying on the seat and picks it up.

"I don't think I've ever heard of this one," he says, seeming a little surprised.

"It's a muggle book," I explain, "Not many witches and wizards _have _heard of it."

"Oh," he replies, "I've never read a muggle storybook. Is it good?"

"It's brilliant! I've read it five times now." I stop, thinking that maybe he'll think it's weird that I reread books so much. He just smiles.

"It must be good then," he says, "I only ever reread books if I've really enjoyed them. I've got one at home that I've read at least ten times. That one's my absolute favourite ever."

I grin with delight. I've met a few girls in the past who shared my passion for reading, but never a boy. He goes to hand me back the book, but I don't take it.

"Would you like to borrow it?" I offer. His face lights up.

"Really?" he says, "Don't you mind?"

"Of course not. Go ahead."

We spend several delightful hours discussing all the books we've read. He may never have heard of any of my favourite muggle books, but it seems we have very similar taste when it comes to wizarding ones. The book he's read ten times turns out to be one of my all time favourites.

When the train journey is almost at its end, Scorpius has to go and find his luggage in order to get his robes to change into. I decide to go with him, and discover that, until I invited him to sit with us, he was sitting in an empty compartment.

"Why didn't you go and find somebody to sit with?" I ask, "You must have been so bored sitting on your own for three hours."

"Nobody wanted me to sit with them," he admits, "They just kept glaring at me every time I opened the door of a compartment. In the end I figured it was easier to just to sit alone."

I frown.

"You shouldn't just give up," I say, "Don't let people treat you like that. You deserve to have people to sit with as much as anyone else does. Besides, you're probably one of the nicest people on the train. Anyone would be _lucky_ to get to sit with you, and if they don't realise that then they're idiots and they don't deserve you anyway."

"Thanks, Rose," he says shyly, staring at his feet. I know I'm probably embarrassing him, but I can't help it. I always get a bit defensive when genuinely nice people are being treated badly. Mum tends to laugh and tell me I can't protect everybody. I want to, though, and I don't see why I shouldn't try to protect as many people as possible.

I leave him alone in the compartment to change and head back to find Albus and Louis. Miracle of miracles, they're stopped talking about Quidditch, but have gone back to what has been everyone's main topic of conversation over the last couple of weeks: the Sorting.

"According to Dad, it's possible to persuade the Sorting Hat to put you in the house you want," Albus says, "Like if you really don't want to go into a particular house then it'll take your choice into account."

"I'm not sure I'd want to do that, though," Louis says, "I mean, surely the Hat knows best? If it thinks you'll do best in a certain house then I think it's probably best just to trust it."

"Yeah, I guess," Albus says, but I can see that he's still uncertain. I know he's still a bit worried about going into Slytherin. Personally, I agree with Louis. I'm quite curious about where the Sorting Hat is going to put me, and I can't imagine ever wanting to argue with its decision. I don't think I'd mind getting put into any of the houses. They all sound quite interesting in different ways.

The train comes to a halt and we climb out. I can't see Scorpius anywhere, but I figure we'll catch up with him later. Just as Mum and Dad told me, Hagrid is standing on the platform, calling for the first years. He grins when he spots me, Albus and Louis.

"Alrigh' you three?" he says, ushering us all away. We make our way down to the edge of the lake, where Hagrid tells us to get in the boats – four people to each boat. I spot Scorpius again, standing on his own and looking like he's not sure who to go with, and I grab him and drag him over to our boat. He smiles gratefully at me.

It's a warm evening and the boat ride over the lake is a pleasant one. We all gasp when we get our first glimpse of Hogwarts. It doesn't matter how many times you've had it described to you or in how much detail; nothing quite prepares you for the first sight of that magnificent castle. I can't believe I'm truly here, and that this place is going to be my home away from home for the next seven years.

Eventually we reach the doors of the castle, which are opened by Neville, or Professor Longbottom as I suppose I should call him now that he's my teacher. He beckons us all in and into a small room just off the Entrance Hall. He briefly explains the Sorting process, and the significance of the different houses within Hogwarts. I try not to become impatient during this part, reminding myself that although I've heard it all a thousand times before, lots of people haven't.

When we're finally led into the Great Hall, I can feel nerves beginning to build in my stomach. I know I said that I don't mind what house I'm in, but it's still very important. The house I'm sorted into today could determine the whole of my time at school, and potentially my entire future. And that sorting is going to take place in front of the _entire _school.

Neville – Professor Longbottom – begins to read out the list of names. I suddenly find myself wishing that my surname wasn't Weasley. I'm going to be one of the last. In fact, there's every possibility that I'm going to be _the _last.

"Malfoy, Scorpius." I've been ignoring the Sorting up until now, but this name catches my attention. I try to give Scorpius a reassuring smile, but I think it comes out more like a grimace. He stumbles up to the stool and sits down. Professor Longbottom places the Hat carefully on his head.

Up until now, most of the Sortings have been fairly quick. Not this one, though. The hall falls silent, watching, as Scorpius sits there for a very long time, hat perched on his head. He has his eyes closed and a very intense expression on his face. I wonder what the Hat is saying to him. I haven't known him long enough to be able to make any sort of guess about what house he'll be in. Obviously his whole family have been in Slytherin up until now, but that doesn't mean he will be. The whole Weasley family had been in Gryffindor until Victoire went into Ravenclaw.

Eventually, just as we are beginning to wonder whether Scorpius will _ever _be sorted, the Hat shouts out its decision.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Slytherin table erupts in cheering as Scorpius carefully removes the Hat and makes his way over to his new housemates. I'm curious as to what took the Hat so long. Clearly he's not as definite a Slytherin as his parents and grandparents before him.

There are a few more people sorted and then:

"Potter, Albus." There's a murmur of interest as people register the surname, but nothing too extreme. I'm very glad that Al is the second Potter child to start to Hogwarts. I imagine it was probably James who got most of the attention last year, whereas by now the novelty has worn off a little. James, incredibly confident to the point of being cocky, no doubt loved all the attention, but Albus wouldn't have dealt with it very well. He's quite a nervous person, and prefers to stay out of the limelight.

Just as I had expected, the Hat shouts out its decision almost the moment it touches Albus' head:

"RAVENCLAW!" He looks a little surprised for a moment, then sags in relief and practically runs over to the Ravenclaw table, who greet him enthusiastically. I can see Molly chatting excitedly to him, and Victoire gives him a wave from where she's sitting with the other seventh years. I relax a little, knowing that he's in safe hands now.

Slowly, our numbers dwindle until it's only me and Louis left standing at the front of the hall.

"Weasley, Louis."

"Good luck," I whisper as he makes his way over to the stool and sits down. He's there for a little while, though not nearly as long as Scorpius, before the Hat makes its decision:

"SLYTHERIN!"

He grins and goes over to join Scorpius at the Slytherin table. I see Victoire's face fall a little, while Dominique's lights up as she congratulates her brother.

I don't have long to notice these things however, as it's now my turn.

"Weasley, Rose."

I take a deep breath and walk over to the stool, concentrating on not tripping. Why is it that simple things like walking become a thousand times harder when as entire school is watching you?

The Hat falls down over my eyes, obscuring my view of the hall. I'm quite glad, really. I don't want to see all those people watching me. This way I can pretend that it's just me and the Hat.

"Hmmm," says a small voice in my ear, "Interesting. There's a fair bit of intelligence in here. Courage, too. A strong sense of fairness. Quite a temper, but only when it comes to defending your friends. I think we can safely say you're not a Slytherin. Not a Hufflepuff, either. Brains like that you'd do well in Ravenclaw."

I stay silent, sensing that this isn't its final decision.

"No, perhaps not Ravenclaw after all," it says, "Though you do have the potential. But no, I think it had better be GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table erupts, and I can hear James, Fred and Roxanne cheering loudly. Feeling a little shaky, I stumble over to sit down next to them. Albus gives me a small, sad smile, and I can't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment that I'm not going to be in the same house as my favourite cousin. Glancing around the lively, smiling table, however, I realise that this is definitely where I belong. I may love reading, but I've never been quite as quiet and studious as Al. I'm happy with Gryffindor. Very happy.


	6. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

James comes over to congratulate me on making it to Gryffindor during the feast, and then throws a dark look at his brother. I swat lightly at his shoulder.

"Don't you _dare_ go giving Al a hard time about it," I say sternly, "Ravenclaw's a great house, and Al will do really well there." James pretends to look intimidated, and gives me a little salute.

"Yes, sir!" he says. I try to hit him again, but he dodges out of the way, grinning, and heads back to his friends. I just hope he'll take me a little more seriously than he's pretending to. Al's going to find it hard enough to be in a different house, without James making it worse.

I glance over towards the Slytherin table, and find Scorpius very quickly. He's eating quietly, not talking to anyone and looking very nervous. I find myself wondering why he's in Slytherin. Not that I think all Slytherins are the same, but from my experience of Dominique and her friends, they all seem to have bags of confidence, or at least the ability to pretend they do. Scorpius just doesn't seem like a Slytherin to me. I think back to what Al told us earlier. Perhaps Scorpius _asked _the Hat to put him in Slytherin. To please his dad maybe? Or to live up to expectations?

I turn away, reminding myself that it's none of my business. I've only known the boy for a couple of hours. I should be getting to know my own housemates, not worrying about the fact that Scorpius isn't talking to his.

"My mum was in Ravenclaw when she was here," a girl is saying to some of the others, "Penelope Clearwater. I know she was kind of hoping I'd go there too, but I like Gryffindor."

"What about your dad?" a boy asks, "Did he want you to go somewhere particular?" The girl shakes her head.

"I've never met my dad," she says, "It's just me and mum. Mum says he was a muggle though. They didn't go out for very long. Mum didn't even get a chance to tell him she was a witch before they broke up, so he never knew anything about Hogwarts."

"Sorry, I didn't catch everyone's names earlier during the Sorting," another girl says, "Could we all introduce ourselves?"

"I'm Jessica Clearwater," says the first girl.

"Annette Stevenson," says the second girl, the one who wanted us all to introduce ourselves, "My parents are both … muggles? Is that the right word? So I don't really know much about all this stuff. Just what I read in my school textbooks. Will that make a difference?" She looks worried, and it suddenly strikes me just how terrifying this must be for someone who hasn't been hearing about Hogwarts from the age of five, and who didn't even know magic exists.

"Don't worry," Jessica says firmly, "We'll keep you right. You'll pick it up in no time."

"Yeah," I agree, "My mum's a muggleborn, and everyone always says she was the brightest witch of her age. You'll settle in fine."

"I'm Aaron Davies," says one of the boys, bringing the conversation back to introductions, "My dad was in Slytherin, my mum was in Gryffindor and my uncle was in Ravenclaw. My uncle doesn't have any kids so they all wanted me to end up in their old house. Mum'll be thrilled."

"I still think it would've been brilliant if you'd ended up in Hufflepuff," says the boy next to him, "I'm Danny Jordan, by the way. Me and Aaron have been friends for years, cos our parents know each other from school."

"Yep, I've been putting up with this git since we were about five," Aaron says, elbowing him, "And now we're even in the same house! No getting away from him." He sighs dramatically, and Danny rolls his eyes.

"Good thing too," he says good-naturedly, "If we'd gone into different houses, you'd have lasted all of five minutes before you'd have been begging for a transfer. You know you can't manage without me."

Jessica laughs, then turns to a quiet, blonde-haired girl who has been listening to the conversation, but without joining in.

"And what's your name?" she asks kindly.

"Beth Urquhart," the girl replies, her voice so soft it's almost a whisper. She doesn't volunteer any other information, and nobody asks.

"We're Steve and Tyler Newman," says a dark-haired boy, gesturing to himself and a similarly dark-haired boy sitting beside him, "I'm Steve and he's Tyler, but don't worry about getting us the right way round. No one ever does, and we both answer to both."

"We're twins," Tyler adds, as if we might not have figured it out.

"Our dad's a muggle," Steve continues, "So obviously he doesn't know anything about houses. And our mom went to school in America, not Hogwarts. We grew up in America, actually. But Gran went to Hogwarts, and she's always wanted us to go. We just moved to Britain last year, so it's still kinda weird. Wizarding Britain is really different to Wizarding America."

Well that explains the American accents, I think. I'd noticed that from the moment they started to speak. I plan to ask them lots and lots of questions about America. I've always wanted to go.

"I'm Andreas Black," says the last first-year boy.

"Andreas!" Steve snorts, "What a name!"

"We're calling you Andy," Tyler says firmly. Jessica glares at them, then turns back to Andreas, seeming more interested in his surname, "So you're one of the Black family? I thought they were extinct after Sirius Black?"

Andreas grimaces.

"I was kind of hoping people wouldn't pick up on that," he says, "My great-great-grandfather was Marius Black. He was disowned for being a squib. So technically I'm a muggleborn, but yeah, I'm part of the Black family."

"That's awesome," Jessica says, "So did you know all about magic already? You must have, if you know about your ancestry."

"Yeah," Andreas says reluctantly, clearly unwilling to talk about this too much, "Marius refused to live in the muggle world, so my family have always lived in the wizarding world, doing jobs that don't need magic. My parents were really excited when they found out I was a wizard. But I'm not really very proud of being part of the Black family. They all sounded horrible."

Jessica finally seems to take the hint and drops the subject. She looks expectantly at me, and I realise I'm the last one not to have introduced myself.

"Rose Weasley," I say with a sigh, and watch their faces change as they take it in. Jessica merely nods, as if it confirms what she already suspected. Beth gasps and stares at me. Annette looks blank, but Aaron looks slightly awed and Steve and Tyler look as though they're considering asking me for my autograph. Andreas shoots me a sympathetic look.

"Rose Weasley?" Steve repeats, "As in _the _Rose Weasley?"

"Your parents are in all my sister's celebrity magazines," Tyler says, "And they did a massive feature on the fact that you and Albus are starting Hogwarts this year." I roll me eyes.

"That's stupid," I say, "Me and Al aren't even that interesting. Who cares that we're starting Hogwarts?"

"Our eight-year-old sister, for one," says Steve.

"And anyone else who reads Witch Weekly," Tyler adds.

"So who here plays Quidditch?" I ask, abruptly changing the subject. It's fairly obvious what I'm doing, but in my experience the mention of Quidditch never fails to distract people, no matter how obvious a ploy it is.

It works. Within thirty seconds Steve and Tyler are debating the merits of American brooms compared to British ones with Danny, and Aaron and Jessica are explaining the finer points of the game to Annette. I can't help but grin. They're such typical Gryffindors: chatty, enthusiastic and obsessed with Quidditch.

But I guess I'm one of them now.


End file.
